Zoe is mad at me tonight. I made orange glazed spatchcocked chicken tonight (recipe to come soon, tomorrow if I have time). She got her share. She loves chicken in almost any form I make it. It’s really kind of funny to watch her excitement as I prepare it and then she can hardly contain herself while I eat my meal. But she always gets a little when I’m done.
However, I had just stripped the bones of the remaining chicken and I moved the pan to where I didn’t think she would bother it. I turned to wash my hands before collecting the bones to freeze for the next time I make stock. I turned around and found her with a leg bone – with part of the thigh bones still attached too – in her mouth making off across the counter.
Surprisingly, she dropped it when I told her to and I picked it up and rinsed it off. It’s still fine for stock.
Ah, the poor kitty faced with temptation. She stole a piece of bacon once when I was preparing to bake a pan of it. She didn’t get to keep that, either.
Actually, the funniest of my kitty-stealing-food stories was my old cat Chester. He once took a chicken breast (fortunately boneless) out of the pan while it was frying. It was obviously hot and he dropped it immediately — straight down to Fred who must have swallowed it virtually whole. I couldn’t even yell at him I was laughing so hard. Poor cat sitting on the counter staring at the dog who had just eaten his prize.